


They Met At A BookShop

by Depressedstressedlemonzest



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is fat, Bookstore AU, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is hopelessly in love at first sight, Cute, Deal With It, First Meetings, Fluff, Good Omens AU, Good Omens one-shot, Human AU, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, No Sex, No Smut, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), One-Shot, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), aziraphale - Freeform, aziraphale and crowley - Freeform, crowley - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:22:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressedstressedlemonzest/pseuds/Depressedstressedlemonzest
Summary: Aziraphale is shopping for new books. Crowley notices him and takes an interest in him.When Aziraphale's stack gets too high and Aziraphale has to climb some stairs Crowley swoops in to the rescue.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 72





	They Met At A BookShop

**Author's Note:**

> Cute little idea I had when shopping at Barnes and Noble and my book stack was getting ridiculous. Sadly I didn't have an instance like this.

“Oh bugger.” Aziraphale huffed as he realized that the books in Foyles had been reorganized, seemingly only to upset him in particular.  
He saw a staff member of the shop and flagged him down, “Excuse me sir, where did the section on Greek Historical Architecture move to?”  
The patron of the store frowned somewhat at Aziraphale, a reaction he was much used to but no longer phased him.  
“It’s now on the second floor.” The man responded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  
“Thank you very much, did any other sections get moved before I get myself lost again?” Aziraphale asked tugging at his velvet vest.  
“Well, the exhibition hall as well as the café are up on the fifth floor, but I’m sure you knew that.” The man gave a pointed look at Aziraphale’s overly round belly.  
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, peak bitch mode activated in his expression, but he didn’t have the energy to deal with unnecessary and unimportant comments on his physique today.  
“Very well.” He nodded as the man walked away with a small smirk on his face.  
“Complete troglodyte.” Aziraphale muttered as he took inventory of where he was in the bookstore.  
Foyles was a five-floor shop with four miles worth of shelves holding over 200,000 titles. And it was the fourth bookstore in London he had been to today to gather new materials for his personal collection and for his shop.  
“Well, I can at least browse some while I’m still on this level.” Aziraphale muttered to himself as he began to wander toward the shelving on the far left of this floor. He could always use some new leisure books to read as well as.  
He browsed the books on the shelving, losing himself in the various titles and authors contained within each binding. If a particular book cover or title caught his eye and he liked the synopsis on the back he would keep it, tucked gently yet firmly against his side, a glimmer of satisfaction ringing through him as he continued looking along the books on the shelves. Making his way down the rows that wrapped around the room, getting lost in the world he was so familiar to.  
***  
“Eric, I’m going to take my lunch now.” Anthony Crowley called behind him to the barista cleaning machinery behind him.  
He grabbed a bottle of water and skittered away from the café toward the other side of the stairs, as he walked to the opposite side of the floor. He picked a spot along the railing and leaned against it facing the exhibition hall.  
The theme of this month’s exhibit was classical music, and it had different posters, musical instruments, listening docks, and plaques decorating it. He grimaced as a couple of young children ran past an ancient and priceless cello that belonged to Pablo Casals.  
He quickly turned around so he could avoid writing an incident report if they knocked it over and destroyed it. He propped his knobby elbows up on the railing surrounding the mezzanine and looked down the squared spiral staircase at the other four floors below him.  
His eyes lazily bounced from patron to patron from behind his sunglasses, noting familiar looking customers and the new arrangement of the shelves. Not seeing anything much worth of noting he unscrewed the cap off of his water bottle and went to take a drink.  
As he did so his eyes caught the glint of golden curls on the floor level of the building and he sputtered, nearly choking on the water.  
Once he had wiped his face of the water that he had sputtered all over himself he raised his sunglasses up onto his head and looked back down to search for the gold that he had seen shining amongst a head of curls.  
He grinned as he spotted the golden tresses among the people milling about and he propped his elbows up on the railing and felt his body relax as he watched the man thumb through the books on the shelves. He seemed to already have a couple books in his arms, but he looked the type to be lost in a bookstore for weeks and not have a problem with it, librarianesque.  
Intrigued Anthony kept an eye on the man as he wound through the shelves until he reached the end of the shelving on that floor. Anthony’s eyebrow cocked as the man seemed to pause, then he started walking up the stairs to the second floor.  
***  
Unable to find more than three medium sized books Aziraphale tucked them under his arm and began climbing the stairs to the next floor of the bookshop, relieved to at least be finding the books with the Greek Historical Architecture on this floor.  
Aziraphale glanced around, glad to be one of the only five people seemingly on this floor, he could relax more with his book gathering and browsing. He wished that Foyles had a buggy or basket to push or carry around to make gathering the books he wanted and needed easier.  
Aziraphale tucked the books under his elbow tightly as he grabbed the very volume of Ancient Greek Architecture that he was needing, a big weighty book he manipulated the other books in his arms so that they were on top of that particular book.  
Satisfied with finding the book he wanted, he began to continue to browse the shelves, taking his time. Letting his plump fingers trail over the spines of the books he was interested in, letting his eyes pause and flicker to the next book as he made his way around the perimeter of this floor, letting the gentle music in the background transport him to a focused calming place, then weaving through the middle shelves.  
He found two more books, smaller this time, and placed them on the top of his little stack that he was carrying. He made his way to the staircase and carefully climbed the stairs up to the third floor.  
***  
Crowley tried not to seem like a creepy stalker as he looked at the man, he had just finished combing through the second floor and with three more books was heading to the third floor, taking the stairs carefully, clutching the books close to his body.  
Crowley was able to get a better look at the man now that he was getting closer to him, in a manner of speaking, on the staircase. He took a gulp of his water, thirsting for more than a refreshing drink.  
He saw that he was even more librarianesque than he first thought, his clothes made Anthony think of an old professor he used to have, stuffy, boring. But this man could be anything but boring, he was beautiful from what Anthony could see.  
The clothes that he wore looked comfortable, a bit out of fashion, but not ancient. They hugged the man in the most beautiful way, draping delicately over a rounded fuller figure, the tan material dancing over the gentle swooping arcs along his sides, a dark brown vest adorning his large belly, emphasizing his roundness unintentionally. The muted colors of the ensemble highlighting the golden curls atop his head.  
Crowley tugged at the neck of his shirt, feeling a heat rising in his cheeks. He wasn’t standing here swooning at some stranger, he simply wasn’t.  
To distract himself he went and tossed his now empty water bottle in the recycling bin and began to undo his hair. It had been up in a half bun while he worked to keep his red mane out of his face, but since he was on break now, he could let it down and try and relieve the headache that had been edging at his temples.  
When Crowley arrived back to his viewing spot his eyes sought out the man with the golden halo of curls on the third floor without prompting.  
***  
Aziraphale was happily adding book after book to the stack in his arms, this floor was full of unique collectibles and antiquarian books.  
He grinned as he found an almost mint copy of a collection of poems from Somali poet Ismail Mire and he carefully grabbed it and added it to his grouping of books he planned to purchase.  
He furrowed his brow as his plump fingers stretched to accommodate the width of the book as he added it to the bottom of the stack in his arms. With a strain he slid it into place, and then glanced at the stack, close to no longer being able to fit in his arm against his side comfortably. He adjusted the books and he held them in both arms in front of his torso. Grinning, he continued browsing the books along the shelving of the third floor.  
***  
Crowley watched mesmerized as the man added book after book to the stack in his arms, not seeming to tire or to weaken with what he was carrying. He watched as the man looked through the books along the perimeter of the third floor before slowly and methodically making his way through the shelves in the middle, adding another three books to his stack.  
Crowley raised an eyebrow, the man seemed somewhat cartoonish as the stack of books in his arms grew tall enough to block out his view in front of him, almost completely obliterating the blonde curls from being seen at all as well. Crowley saw him peek around the stack to see where he was walking, and Crowley felt butterflies in his stomach watching the adorable display.  
Once the man finished looking through all the books on the third floor Crowley watched as he made his way, slowly, to the staircase to climb up to the fourth floor, surely to add even more books to the stack in his arms.  
Concerned for the man’s, and other patron’s wellbeing, Crowley pushed himself off of the banister before he could think twice about it, quickly loped down around the mezzanine to the top of the stairway on his level and sauntered down the steps taking them two at a time with his long limbs, trying to reach the man before he tripped over the treads at the bottom.  
***  
Aziraphale slowly shuffled his way from the last shelves on the third floor to the staircase so he could go up to the fourth floor and check the books there. He glanced around to see if there was anyone nearby, to make sure that he wasn’t about to blindly bump into anyone, and perhaps see if there was a basket or buggy free that he could use.  
Seeing no one, he continued to ease his way slowly to the staircase, cursing himself for not counting the steps on the stairs between floors previously when he had used them.  
He felt the weight of the books shift in his arms and he gripped them closer to his soft torso, barely daring to breathe for a moment until they were all stable in his arms again. Not wanting them all to fall down he began to slowly shuffle across the floor, keeping his books safe and keeping his person safe, as well as other people safe.  
Satisfied with this mode of transportation, he continued to shuffle until his toes thunked against one of the wooden risers and made him wobble slightly. He gripped the books in his arms tighter against himself as he precariously continued to climb the steps to the staircase.  
He counted the steps to himself, one, two, three, four. As he felt with his foot for the next step and didn’t feel anything he felt more confident in his ability to feel out his surroundings and instead of shuffling his feet he stepped forward confidently.  
After several steps his foot kicked against an unexpected step and he tilted forward cursing himself, he tried to stabilize his balance by leaning backward and jutting his chest and belly out.  
The wobbling of his being caused one arm to jerk instinctively to gain stability, and the books in his grasp lurched to the side and began to slide out of his grasp.  
***  
“OI!” Crowley shouted as he reached the platform landing of the staircase where the beautiful librarianesque man was mid-fall, not expecting the sudden steps to reappear.  
Crowley dove toward the man to help him right himself and keep the books from falling.  
The man jerked at the shout Crowley made and the books began to fall haphazardly out of his arms. Crowley’s momentum from his rescue attempt didn’t cease when he reached the man and instead of helping him stay upright, he knocked into him, sending them both into a heap on the floor, the books now scattered around them.  
Crowley felt his heart beating quickly, and tried to assess the situation he was in, his long legs were thrown out behind him, his back flat against the floor, and his arms, instinctively wrapped around the man that he had been watching all morning. At this realization he felt a blush flare onto his face.  
***  
Aziraphale gaped at the scene that had not only unfolded in front of him but pulled him down as well. He tried to gather his wits as he blinked, slowly evaluating his surroundings.  
His books were all over the floor around him, he had seen where he had been tripped, the staircase had stopped and began forming an intermediate landing platform, where the stairs began to ascend again is where he was currently in a heap on the floor, as well as his books, and a red-haired man who had dove in the mess, to try and assist.  
Aziraphale looked at man, studying him for a moment before gathering his senses. The man had red sunset curls descending from the crown of his head, the tresses a deep shade of auburn, each strand seemingly a different color. His face was pointed and sharp a puzzle of different angles coming together to form his face. A pair of dark sunglasses were half on and half off, half balanced on a nose that peaked out sharply. The eye that was visible was closed, as if the man were sleeping. His limbs and body were all in a slender tangle along the steps they had fallen on, his long arms were wrapped around Aziraphale’s middle.  
Aziraphale felt heat rising in his cheeks as he felt the warmth of the man’s arms against him, tightly gripped around him, protective almost, as if to save him from the fall.  
Aziraphale wanted to study the sharp jagged intricate angles of the man further, but his eye opened slowly, peeking at Aziraphale with a golden gaze, and Aziraphale felt a breath entrap in his throat.  
***  
Crowley peeked from behind his glasses, seeing the blonde man close enough to see the rise and fall of his chest made his heart lurch.  
He tried to replay the events of gravity and Newton’s law that had apparently taken place in his rescue attempt, and he realized that his arms were encircling the man’s middle tightly, holding the man against him, almost close enough to feel his heartbeat. The softness of the man pressed gently against him, Crowley wanted to succumb to the softness around him, he didn’t want to unwrap his arms from around the man yet, he didn’t seem to be in much of a fuss about it, so Crowley decided to enjoy it for a moment.  
He looked up at the man and noticed that his eyes were a dazzling shade of blue, a mix between sapphires and the sky, surrounded by pale lashes that danced with each blink, lashes long enough to trace his plump cheeks with each blink, and they were looking right at him.  
Crowley grunted, realizing the stairs were digging into his back in various places, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He grumbled as he regrettably released the man from his grasp and adjusted himself to where he wasn’t laying on a stack of pointed edges from the books and steps.  
The man blinked rapidly and looked at Crowley, fidgeting in place, looking everywhere but at Crowley.  
“You mean, you falling?” The man asked, his voice soft and gentle.  
Crowley smirked, “I didn’t fall, I just, sauntered vaguely downward.” He looked up with a half smile playing across his lips.  
The blonde man chuckled, a blush spreading across his cheeks.  
“’m name is Anthony Crowley, but everyone calls me Crowley.” Crowley held out a long slender hand as he introduced himself to the man.  
***  
Aziraphale looked at the man, his cocky half smile making his stomach twist, then he realized the man had introduced himself.  
“Aziraphale Eden, but everyone calls me Aziraphale.” He hesitated a half second before placing his hand in Crowley’s and shaking it in greeting.  
“I’d say nice to meet you, but I was hoping to meet you in a different way.” Crowley chuckled, and then blushed a furious shade of crimson.  
Aziraphale caught the meaning behind the words, “You were hoping we would meet a different way?” he asked, his voice breathy to his own ears.  
The man, Crowley, was having an effect on him, his breathing was quickening, and his pulse was beating faster. The burning touch where his arms had been wrapped around him was still flaming against Aziraphale, and he wished that Crowley hadn’t removed his arms from around his torso. Aziraphale drank in the sharply angled beautiful man, who was blushing even deeper.  
***  
“Ngk!” Crowley stuttered out, realizing what Aziraphale had realized.  
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow curiously.  
“Er, I-I mean yeah. I had kinda been, er, noticing you around the bookstore today. And you were just bloody beautiful, and I wanted to meet you right away, but I was also fascinated by your book searching that I just kind of watched you and admired you from afar, and this all sounds insane.” Crowley spilled out the words so quickly that he wasn’t sure Aziraphale would catch them all.  
The slow smile that spread across his face, and the gentle pink blush that tinted his cheeks told him differently.  
“Well, that was all, very unexpected I daresay.” Aziraphale admitted, the smile still playing across his plump lips.  
Crowley grinned back at him, he hadn’t accused him of being a stalker, and he hadn’t run away, this was off on a better foot.  
“Here, er, lemme,” Crowley muttered as he gathered his limbs into a human like form and stood up, offering a hand to Aziraphale to help him up.  
***  
Aziraphale felt like a feather dancing in the wind as Crowley helped him to his feet, when he was up to a standing position, he didn’t want to let Crowley’s hand out of his grasp.  
He hesitantly laced his fingers through Crowley’s and glanced up at him to assess how he felt about that motion.  
Crowley had a smile on his face like a puppy that just caught his ever-elusive tail and was now resting in a heap on a bed of grass.  
Aziraphale gave Crowley’s hand a squeeze, “Would you, like to accompany me as I finish the rest of my purchases?” he asked hesitantly, nervous about the answer that may be given.  
***  
Crowley felt an elation soar through his chest as butterflies flapped in his stomach.  
“I would quite like that.” He murmured gently.  
Aziraphale smiled up at him, and together they picked up all the books that had been strewn around them, and each carrying a stack, made their way up to the fourth floor.


End file.
